Taken
He'd had enough. It had been two years! Two years since his son had been killed! Two years since his wife had walked out! His eldest son didn't even stay at home anymore. He preferred to stay at friends' houses and popped in every now and again. His family just hadn't been the same since their six year old son had been murdered.
It was all his fault! He'd been too late to save him. He'd tried but he'd failed him. He still couldn't get the image of his dead body out of his head. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the day he failed to save his youngest son. He'd pushed them all away by shutting himself off but he'd had to work. He couldn't let anyone else lose their child yet he'd ended up losing his family.
She'd left two years ago saying she needed space and time. He should have followed her when she ran out of his office crying but he didn't. He'd just accepted her note of resignation and gone right back to work. When he got home that night he found her gone and a note from his son saying he was staying at a friend's.
Like a fool he'd waited for her but he now knew there was no hope. He'd lost all contact with her. It was obvious she didn't want him anymore. If she did she'd have come back or at least contacted him by now but not a word. Was she even still alive? He'd lost all hope.
What was the point in living? There was no-one there for him. He'd lost everything that ever mattered to him. What was there to live for? He'd failed to save his youngest son, his wife was never coming back and his eldest son didn't need him. He was seventeen now and only came home every now and again.
He wasn't needed. He was just a waste of space. He was barely alive anyway. He'd been empty for the last two years and just going through the motions. He couldn't bear this existence anymore. Even more he couldn't bear this pain anymore.
Deciding he should join his youngest son he picked up a pen and paper. He looked down at the paper feeling vulnerable but determined and wrote a note to tell his eldest son where he'd gone. He just hoped he understood and wouldn't try and stop him. He couldn't live with this pain anymore.
He then put on his shoes and left the house. He knew where he was going as he headed to Anacostia River. He used to come here all the time with his youngest son when he was in town. He hadn't been here since they lost him and he felt his chest tighten as he rushed to the bridge where they used to play Pooh sticks.
He could feel tears in his eyes rising as he saw the bridge. He gripped the rail trying to bite back his tears and climbed on top of it. He stared at the water and gulped. He couldn't take it anymore though. He couldn't live like this any longer. He just couldn't go on.
He heard footsteps behind him but stayed looking at the water contemplating jumping in fully clothed. He wouldn't let anyone stop him. He had to do this. He'd never felt so alone and it had been going on two years already.
He heard a man's voice say, "Go on. End it all. There's no-one there for you. Might as well be dead. Want some help?"
He couldn't believe someone was actually encouraging him to do it. Was he really there or was it just his mind talking to him? He dared to take a look and saw with tears in his eyes a dark-haired man standing there looking at him with the utmost hatred.
"The great Agent Hotchner couldn't even save his own son," he sneered.
He was right he thought looking back at the water. He'd been too late to save Toby. He couldn't bear the thought of how scared and abandoned he must have felt as the bastard took his young life away from him. He was meant to be his father and the head of an elite group of profilers but when it had come time to save his son he'd failed him and now he was lying six feet under the ground. It was all his fault his wife had lost her only child.
"What are you waiting for?" the man asked. "Do you want a push?"
Suddenly he felt a great thrust from behind him and found himself falling. He felt the water go over his head and fill his lungs. It stung and he saw his life flash before his eyes. He felt so incredibly alone.
"Oops," the man said then dived in after him.
He found his body and dragged him out onto the river bank. He laid him on the grass and gave him CPR. Soon enough he coughed up the water in his lungs and looked up at him weakly.
"I'm not going to make it that easy for you," he said slinging him over his shoulder.
He then threw him into the back of his van and got in himself. He drove off to the warehouse he'd prepared for this. The time had come. He'd been planning this for two years ever since he lost his son and found out his killer had been beaten to death by an agent before he could get justice.
When they got to the warehouse he shaved his hair off to show his dominance. He was his now to do whatever he wanted with. He put chains on both his wrists and ankles then strung him up leaving him alone.